Consider yourself forewarned, my look in those photos are not exactly my best for traveling, but it was hot, exhausting, and one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. I’m excited to be able to share some of my experiences with all of you.

I’ll be logged in the day of the blog post responding to comments and answering any questions you may have.

For those who follow my Twitter and Facebook posts, know that I have a gigantic Nerd Hat and love of comics and graphic novels. I spent many a day reading them when I wasn’t reading books. (I was a sedentary child. Allergic to everything outside and am too uncoordinated to play sports. What else do you want from me?)

I mostly stuck to X-Men and Batman, threw in a few Spiderman, and some Catwoman comics.

For those who are interested in starting your journey to the originals – the actual comics – it’s natural to be curious due to an supersaturated market (see what I did there?). With Marvel dominating the media on both television and screen, uniting series after series together, and DC Comics desperate to catch up to its major rival, comics exponentially growing fan base is desperate to learn more about origins of the artistry, story telling, and illustrated commentary on the human condition.

Where to begin? Do I grab the most recent Batman comic, or X-Men series? (I know I’m committing blasphemous work by combining rivals, but I love both.)

Not wanting to join in on the Marvel/DC Comics War? There are SO MANY other choices out there.Try listening to this dude. Below is advice from Professor Thorgi. (Yes, that’s his actual YouTube Channel persona.) No, there isn’t a specific reason that I chose a video with a dude in it. I’m 100% a believer that women (WOMEN, not “girls.” WOMEN) can equally enjoy the comic book world.

Nope, not this guy:

Or this guy:

This guy:

Professor Thorgi provides advice about non-Marvel/non-DC Comics comic book companies, and guides you on which you would enjoy based on your current flim/tv show preferences.

His video is a bit long, so save it for when you have time to sit down with a glass of Red Shirt Ale. On the plus side, he sounds like the Chocolate Rain Singer, so I laugh while being informed. Please enjoy his video, if only to enjoy that velvety smooth Chocolate Rain voice to sooth your evening blues.

What this all boils down to is, find what you like, and don’t let anyone tell you you’re fake. If you have a love of comics in your heart, whether through actual comic books, graphic novels, or the wave after wave of explosive films in theaters and on television, we nerds/geeks (whichever term you deem more applicable) are happy to welcome you to the family.

There has been an article circulating about a wedding that was interrupted by the groom’s best friend/officiant. The BF decided to interrupt the ceremony to propose to his own girlfriend, and then forced the band to play a “special song” for him and his bride-to-be to dance to during the wedding.

Friend and fellow author, Patricia Johns (look her up, she’s amazing) commented on this event on her blog with an post called How mad would you be? I don’t know about you, but I would’ve been pretty upset. Here is the comment I posted on Patricia’s blog and I stand by it. What do you think?

———– START OF COMMENT ———–

I have a major problem with this, and it’s not because of the financial factor: The friend did this during the ceremony.

I don’t care how small or big your budget is for this event. The ceremony is about the people involved and making a commitment to each other. Interrupting their ceremony, which is their declaration in front of their loved ones, is narcissistic, disruptive, and completely overstepping the boundaries of friendship with someone. No matter how small the budget, how casual the environment, perhaps this was the one time in their lives when all of their friends and family will be in one place. To hijack that intimate setting during of one of the biggest emotional events of your life is a horrible thing to do. My husband and I aren’t well off people. We’re not at the poverty line, but not above it by much and live in a quasi-ghetto area. This was a special moment for us and having so many friends and family from out of town in one place made it all the more special.

I can understand getting caught up in the emotion of the day. It makes guests and participants reflective of their own relationships. I think if any type of declaration had to be made by the officiant/best friend/narcissistic idiot, it should’ve been made during the reception, after the speeches and first dance are done, when the environment is more casual and collaborative. Then, maybe requesting a special dance also would’ve fit more in with the festive ambience. Everyone’s (hopefully) feeling the good vibes and wanting to celebrate in this life event. Guests make music requests of the band/DJ/jukebox, what have you, all of the time at these events. Making a declaration taking the spotlight off of the main people involved before the milestone moments of a wedding would be extremely hurtful. I’m not saying don’t do it, but have some respect for the people involved and wait for the right time during the event if it absolutely has to be done.

Also, Judy above [first commenter] makes a good point. I can’t possibly believe if someone had the gall to do this during the ceremony that it was the first time this kind of stunt has occurred. However, even if it was due to shock, neither the groom nor the bride stepped in to say, “Hey, can this wait until later?” Then, if the officiant/best friend/narcissistic idiot continued to try and move forward, I would’ve been more upset and say “bye bye” to that friend. There had to have been, for lack of better phrasing, warning signs that this guy was capable of pulling a stunt like this out of thin air. He would’ve had to have done this before with other life events.

Well, my first was out of my control. I was shipped UPS-style at the age of six months, traveling internationally to meet my new family.

I still wonder if I should tattoo a bar code on the bottom of my foot with the words “Made In Korea” on the other.

Fun Fact: All photos of my airport arrival had a gift shop in the background. The top of each photograph said, “Tax and Duty Free.” My mother claims this was a major false advertisement on the adoption agency’s part, and demands a refund from them. If I can find the photo, I’ll post it.

Another was betting on my future by not applying to the UW.

Besides, as a very strong, high B-average student, I doubt my GPA would have gotten me in.

Letting go of the past and opening my heart to Pilot.

One of the best decisions ever. I finally have someone who will attend hockey games with me and thinks my ridiculousness is “cute.” I would prefer he had said something more along the lines of “genius,” “trendsetting,” or “Pulitzer-worthy,” but hey, you can only ask for so much, right?

The night my dad passed away.

I can only hope that I bring a small amount of happiness to my mom, even though I know I’ll never be enough to fill that loss.

Being diagnosed with thyroid cancer.

I’m not going to compare my lame-ass experience with those of true cancer survivors. Mine was caught very early, thanks to a great doc and new technology. I am in no way a cancer survivor. Cancer survivors are true heroes with more courage than I can imagine. I was… grazed (?) by cancer, if that makes any sense.

The day I said “Really?”(That’s a story for another day.)

And, my absolute favorite day, and each day since then, was the day I said “I do.” (Also a story for another day.)

Aww… More sappy moments. Are you sick of me yet?

I’ll warn you. Pilot and I are the smoochy “Bewitched”-like couple. The Samantha and Darren Stevens couple who makes everyone else want to hurl. (Except the baby talk. I can’t stand people who “baby talk” each other. I don’t even “baby talk” babies. Their brains are like sponges, they absorb everything. Do I really want to be responsible for the person who thinks “ga ga goo goo” is a phrase? Bitch, please.)

These are moments that not only tested me, they made me surprise myself and others. Included in these experiences is the day I began this blog and made a dedication to myself and to you, my very precious viewers, that I would write and do everything (morally and legally) within my power to become a good, succesful, multiple-times-over published author.

What were some of your most defining moments? The ones that pivoted your life in a new direction? How did they change you? Was it worth the change?

Daily Writing Challenge

Day 19: Today is a day that will change your characters life forever. What course of events occurs? How does your character react? Write a scene from this day.

I’m so sick of waiting…

This is terrifying…

I’m so excited…

Each of these thoughts simultaneously ran through her mind as she tapped her fingernails on oak dining room table.

“All right, honey. I have the suitcase in the car, and we’re ready to go.” Oliver stepped through archway, anticipation twinkled in his eyes.

Sylvie pushed herself up from her chair and he guided her to their sedan. Well, here goes nothing, she thought.

As they drove down I-5, she watched the buildings sweep past her window. In a soft voice, Oliver turned briefly to look at her. “Now, honey everything is going to be fine,” as slipped his hand in hers.

“I know. I just don’t know what’s going to happen. We’re as prepared as we can be, but…” she looked down at her protruding stomach. “I’m scared.”

“It’s not a baby, it’s a damn elephant!” Sylvie screamed. “Give me the epidural! I want the epidural!”

“Just two more pushes, honey! You can do it, Sylvie! Just breathe!” Oliver was a pillar of calm and she wanted to deck him straight into the New Year. Focus. Focus on your breathing. Sylvie bit down and breathed as slowly as she could though her teeth.

“Hoo-hoo! Hee!”

She wanted to boil whoever insisted she not use painkillers. Oh wait, she convinced herself of that. Natural is best, my ass, she thought. But her thoughts vanished as quickly as they appeared when another wave of pain shot through her body, causing her back to go into spasms unlike anything she had ever experienced before.

“It’s ok, Sylvie! You’re doing great! Now push! Push!”

“I can’t!” she cried, squeezing her eyes shut. “I can’t do this anymore! Make it stop. Oh god, make it stop!”

“Just one more push, Sylvie. You can do it,” Dr. Gustafson said encouragingly.

“Sylvie, look at me!”Oliver’s voice drifted through the waves of pain that were drowning her.

She opened eyes. Oliver’s deep brown eyes were full of determination, compassion and love as he held her gaze.

“Honey, I love you. I’ve loved you since the day you threw that Frisbee at my face and knocked out my tooth-” Breathe. Keep breathing.

“One more push,” Dr. Gustafson ordered. Sylvie pushed with all of the strength she had left, which wasn’t much.

“-and I know you’re tired, and I know you want to give up, but I won’t let you.” Oliver continued to look into her eyes. “You’re the woman who never gave up on anything. You’re a fighter! You’ve never let me win anything without a fight,-”

Sylvie screamed as the pain consumed her. Sweat was blending with her tears now, dripping down her face.

“I can see the head,” Dr. Gustafson commanded. “Keep pushing, Sylvie! Just one more!”

Holy cow! I can’t believe I’m already on DWC 15! (There are a total of 25, so I’m over halfway through!)

ATTENTION ALL READERS:

Coining a term from my Daily Life, “Scope Creep,” has fallen upon me. Maintaining a lifestyle of a full-time job, dealing with said Daily Life, writing this blog, working on the DWC’s, trying to carve additional time for my WIP’s and trying to obtain a fair amount of sleep each night… Well, it’s becoming all too much and something has got to give. If I’m not careful, it could quite possibly be my sanity.

Let’s face the facts: If the sanity is completely gone, who wants to read the ramblings of a crazy person?

With most of the outline for my first of a two-book series written out, I hope to have at least both outlines completed, along with officially having started to knock out the first book by the end of the month.

With the ultimate goal of getting published someday, (if I’m lucky enough to be selected by an agent, and then, by some miracle have my work picked up by a publishing company), these last two weeks have proven me wrong:

I cannot continue with the mere goal of writing something each day. I need to be focused on my WIP’s each day.

The (mostly) daily blogging has assisted with me getting back into the groove of taking at least one hour to focus on my Real Life work. I need to use my now aging memory for redeveloping my writing skills.

I will try to post as often as possible, at minimum weekly. So bear with me readers, the few but precious you are! I promise to remain faithful as ever to provide a detailed, if slightly ridiculous, report of my progress.

And now, back to our show!

Daily Writing Challenge

Day 15: Your character is upset. What about? How does it affect them? Does anyone come to comfort them? Write a scene where your character is distraught.

[Today’s DWC and my daily blog post are one and the same. So hope you enjoy!]

Lesson Learned: No matter how much you try, one cannot fight Mother Nature. Even if you hate it sometimes.

I believe that God has a sense of humor, (don’t believe me? Have you ever seen a platypus?), and although I’m 100% sure He loves everyone, I also believe the caveat of His humor is that He enjoys screwing with me, just a tiny bit, to see how I’ll react.

Case in point: As part of Pilot’s birthday weekend, we went out to watch the IL2, a Russian WWII war bird fly this afternoon. Instead of being part of the museum’s crowd, we made our way to the opposite side of the runway, near the windsock, amongst the tall grass. After an amazing one-hour show, Pilot and I made our way back to our car.

As I was belting myself in, I felt a presence on my shoulder. Batting the nuisance away, I froze. The annoying presence fell into my shirt. Glancing downward, there it was.

A spider.

A really big spider.

Cricket on a cracker, there is a HUGE SPIDER IN MY BRA!!!

As I gracefully scream and tastefully swat at my boobs-

Get it out! Get it out! Get this fucking thing off of MEEE!

-I end up repeatedly squashing it against my poor, innocent breast. (Let’s just say some more screeching ensued for the next few seconds on top of the additional swatting and accidental exposure of myself to those within viewing distance of our vehicle.)

Desperate to remove this creepy crawly from my person, I was finally able to dislodge the Spawn of Satan out of my shirt, flinging it unceremoniously onto the console of Pilot’s vehicle where the humongous thing proceeded to lie there… somewhat flatly while twitching. Bursting through the car door, I stand outside facing the interior of War Machine, (Pilot and I dubbed his vehicle War Machine not too long ago. What can I say? I already told you it’s a tradition that we name our modes of transportation), and pointed directly to Evil Incarnate calmly requesting Pilot to “Get that… that… THING, away from me!”

Pilot, having just sat in the driver’s seat watching this whole ordeal with a look of amusement on his face, (the rat bastard), proceeds to take his hand from the steering wheel, placing his forefinger and thumb behind Satan’s Mistress and flicked it out of the car.

Sadly, I was under the misfortune of not having my wits about me, (remember, I said complete loss of sanity. I never claimed to have full sanity to begin with) and was standing in the direct path of The Devil’s Wrath Upon Humanity. The spider bounced off of me, causing another Eek! to emit from me, and it landed on the ground.

I maintained my composure by gracefully scrambling into the car, proceeding to lock all doors, seal all windows, securing Pilot and myself in impenetrable cat suits complete with boots and gloves, placing heat-seeking goggles over our eyes, surrounding our vehicle with motion-sensor cameras and setting up a perimeter of an electrified, barbed wire fence.

Exhilaration tingled throughout my body as I bobbed and weaved through the jungle of I-5 traffic. Destination: Home, after a long and tedious experience of my Daily Life. For the first time in a quadrillion years, I looked forward to today. Perhaps it was because of the semi-decent hair day I seemed to have acquired, or that I scrounged together enough cash to buy a bagel this morning. Well, I’m pretty sure it had to do with the fact that yesterday, I took my first step into the blogosphere.

However, upon returning to my (very) humble abode, I rammed straight into the ultimate brick wall.

What the fuck am I supposed to write first?

I’m sure most bloggers begin with posting something poignant. Perhaps either to prove to others he or she actually knows something about the topic they picked, or maybe proving to themselves they’ll actually follow through with this blogging thing. With so many topics lolling around in my brain, it was difficult to select just one idea.

Review a recently read novel?

Post a status on my WIPs?

And what about tone?

Should it be serious? Insightful? Thigh-slappingly funny?

Similar to picking a favorite child, the choice was impossible and I was intimidated beyond all recognition.

Well, this is me, and this is reality. The Friday of a 3-day weekend comes along and flicks a switch in me, turning me into one of humanities greatest nightmares: a person with Vacation Brain.

Its symptoms are easily spotted by those not exposed to this debilitating and stupefying condition. Unfortunately, those who have been affected by Vacation Brain go through a serious case of “revertigo,” causing even the simplest of functions, like thinking, to become a feat similar to climbing Mt. Everest. You’ve seen these people. They’re at your workplace, your hometowns. They’re the ones on a tour, standing in front of a sandy beach facing the water. Their guide dutifully announcing, “Here’s the Pacific Ocean!” To which they respond to said statement by pointing out the nearby lake exclaiming, “Oh! So this must be the Atlantic Ocean!”

So how does a newbie blogger attempt to write her first real post with Vacation Brain?

She doesn’t. She leaves home, grabs some grub with the hubby and goes to a hockey game.

You heard me! I threw on my team’s jersey, left the house (ok, apartment), and didn’t think about writing at all. And, do you know what happened? A flash of inspiration illuminated my work-weary head, cleansing the obscenities about to be expelled from my lips at the referee currently ruining my sport of choice.

I realized I needed help. A guide if you will. After searching the interwebs, I came across another blog someone posted with a daily writing challenge.

So witness below, my attempt at my first real post with Day 1 of the Daily Writing Challenge below. Under the duress of Vacation Brain, mind you. (No pun inte- … Ok, the pun was intended.)

Daily Writing Challenge

Day 1: Write a biography of your life. Only use a seven-word sentence.

I have a love/hate relationship with myself. I love to give myself frank, honest tough-love to ensure I continue to grow as a person. (Ok, and also to keep from becoming too boring.) And, typically, I hate going through every minute of it.

Allow me to explain:

Every so often, I give myself an enormously-heaving shove outside of my comfort zone.

As a child, it was facing my fear of heights to jump off of the high dive at the local pool. (I’m still ridiculously terrified of heights, but at least I did it.) As a guarded, semi-nerdy college student, it was the decision to make new friends with a more open, positive attitude. (The first person I met was moments after making this attitude-adjustment decision. He is now my husband.)

And now as I gently drop-kick myself out of the bliss-bubble, I’m committing myself to this and forcing myself to put IT out there. For all of the internet masses to see. The highs, the lows, the real, the fictitious.

I just can’t keep it to myself anymore. Not if I have a snowball’s chance in Old Scratch’s homestead of being successful.

“IT” being the need to write. To breathe life into characters. To share a story. (Ok, and to sometimes commentate on my daily screw ups in hopes of learning from them.)

This is acting as the spark to my creative outlet in hopes of accomplishing my dream of being a successful romance novelist.

So join me as I flail out of the bird’s nest. Take a few minutes to read and have a laugh, as I try to grasp life’s lessons, even if I hit every branch on the way down. Go ahead, pour yourself a glass of your favorite relaxation beverage of choice.